Resolution
by sam938
Summary: Sam and Jack resolve what was left unfinished in season 8. Written in 2005 s. 8 when Sam is assigned to 51, but temporarily located at the SGC. Jack's in D.C. Fluff. 2 chapters. S/J.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Resolution

Author: Sam938

Rating: PG13. There are a few paragraphs that imply sexual situations, but not much. No violence, some swearing.

Summary: Mid season 9. Sam and Jack resolve what's yet to be resolved from season 8.

Classifications: S/J romance, mostly fluff. Lots of sap, and the story interprets Air Force fraternization regulations in a non-standard way, so if you're a stickler on this topic, don't read, please. Oh yeah, did I mention sap? Yep, think I did.

Archive: SJD yes. Others please ask.

Disclaimers: Don't own the characters, etc. etc. and this was written for entertainment, not profit.

Status: complete.

Feedback: Sure. Thanks, very much!

A/N: This was written in 2005, at the end of season 8, projecting what could happen when Sam is asked to move back to the SGC permanently by Landry and she's already in a relationship with Jack. She's temporarily assigned to the SGC, on leave from 51.

--

"What are you **doing** here?"

Jack looked up from his reports on his currently "lapped" laptop. With his bare feet on the coffee table and a beer on the side table, he'd comfortably settled in. He'd been working there for nearly two hours before she'd finally gotten home.

The really interesting part was that Sam's automatic was still pointed at him, even now that she'd figured out who he was.

Okay, so… it was true that he was ensconced in her living room without notice, but he did actually did have some precedent with that…but, well…that wasn't the point.

And yeah, he knew things had been tense at the SGC lately, but this was getting ridiculous.

After all, it wasn't exactly breaking and entering. He did have a key. He had one for her house here in Colorado (which she hadn't sold yet), one for the Nevada apartment, and she had one for his in D.C. In fact, they had way too many keys for his taste, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she was still pointing a gun at him.

"Nice to see you too, Colonel."

"God, sorry." He watched with interest as she finally reholstered the gun.

He took another drink of his beer and listened with even more interest as she tried to apologize for nearly shooting him, making a mess of it.

She finally gave him something reasonable that he could work with.

"I thought you might be the NID or something-- uhh--"

"Worse."

"Yeah."

"Well?"

Jack figured it was always better to ask these things up front.

"Oh, you're definitely not worse." She smiled, finally, a real Carter smile, and then moved towards him and the couch.

His last coherent thought was that he really needed to visit Colorado Springs more often.

Two hours later, with Sam's head against his shoulder, her legs wrapped around his, and the moonlight shining in through the skylight in the bedroom, he decided that maybe what he'd come here to propose as suggestions about the future might just be OK.

Sam stirred, and then rose up above him, her legs straddling his hips, her hands and arms balancing her and holding up her upper body up she started a rhythm that was obviously going to kill them both.. uhh .. in a good way… a very good way.

He turned them both over and pushed her back down on the bed, his body over hers, trying to calm them down.

"Sam. We have to talk."

"Later. Missed you. " She wrapped her legs around him again in another position that had as much possibility and promise as the first.

He groaned and counted to ten. "No. Now."

"Really?"

Given that she could feel that he was hard again against her body, and practically in her body, he could understand her confusion.

Hell, he was confused himself.

He gulped and then swallowed, but stayed firm in his determination, as well as elsewhere, unfortunately, and finally found the strength to pull his upper body away from hers. He rested his weight on his arms, stared down, and gave her the most serious look he could currently manage given their situation.

"Yes. Really. We need to talk now. We can finish this after, or at least I hope we will."

She grinned. "Is that blackmail?"

He thought about his options. He could lie, but the truth seemed like the best possibility at the moment. "Yeah."

She smiled and stretched underneath him, relaxing into him. "Thought so. Just wanted to be sure." When she moved against him again he nearly said the hell with it; they could talk tomorrow after all.

But that was just cowardice on his part avoiding a discussion about what he hoped was the inevitable.

"Jeez…damn it, Carter. I'm serious." He pulled away and sat up against the headboard. When she stayed where she was, he grabbed her arms.

"Up." He maneuvered her up against his shoulder, until she was sitting next to him.

"Jack?" She sounded confused, and slightly worried.

Hell, he hadn't meant to do that… it was just that…

"Why **are** you here? Is everything alright?"

He rubbed his hand over his eyes, wondering how he had managed to screw this "well planned" conversation up before it had even started. Yeah, well done, O'Neill.

"Yeah…uhh…yes. At least I hope so."

"You **hope** so?"

Oh yeah, this was going well. He decided it was time to just get it over with and jump in, given that he was doing such a great job of setting the scene, but she beat him to the punch.

"Jack, just tell me." She sat up, pulled away from his shoulder, and moved to the middle of the bed, looking at him questioningly, the sheet wrapped around her.

Great. Just great. Yep, this was just how he'd planned it. Why was it that Carter was the only person who ever managed to get under his skin enough to make him lose track of what he really intended to say when things got personal? OK, sure, he blurted a lot of stuff in "getting a little too close" situations when necessary, or shut up entirely, but it was well-planned blurting and well-planned silence. With Sam he just lost it because it was…about her being Sam… OK, stupid question.

He braced his shoulders against the bed board, took a deep breath and started in.

"Landry called me this morning. He requested that your temporary reassignment to the SGC be reclassified to permanent, and he asked for my help."

She stayed silent, saying nothing. Not good.

"From what I hear from **him**, you turned him down, but he thought you regretted doing so. Said your reason for refusing was that you felt obligated to your work at 51. He felt, however, that…something else… was going on."

He watched her expression carefully while he continued. "He asked me to intercede with you, given our… 'friendship'-- his word, not mine. He also implied, although being Hank he would never actually say, that if that didn't work, he hoped I would consider overriding your refusal by negotiating with Cook for the transfer, and then requiring the reassignment, whether you liked it or not. "

When she continued to stay silent, he decided to just get it over with and all of it out.

"Landry, of course, assumed my, as he called it, 'obvious interest' in making sure the SGC and everything under my command had the best possible people in all the right jobs would tip the scales about my willingness to discuss this with you.

"And he was right about that. So I am."

"Damn."

"That bad?"

"No—it's just that… well… I just didn't expect this to get to you, that's all."

"Why not?"

She ignored his question. "Damn it, Jack. I turned him down. That should have been enough. I never thought he'd take it further up the ranks. I thought this was over."

"Yeah. Well, life, and especially the military, doesn't quite work that way—and, I might add -- I already know you know that. So, you can imagine my surprise, seeing as I hadn't heard any of this from you, when I got Hank's proposal. And to be honest, it seems from here like I would never have heard anything about it if he hadn't called. "

He looked at her curiously, saying mildly, "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I—you were busy. I was busy and it wasn't that important. "

"Not good enough."

She rubbed her hand over her face and looked away from him. "I know I should have told you. I'm sorry."

"And you didn't because?"

"I just couldn't. "

"Why?" He tried to catch her eyes, but she refused to look at him, and instead, stared away from him at the wall. He really thought the wall was a pretty uninteresting sight, but what did he know.

He waited for his answer.

"You have enough on your plate. You didn't need this as well." She finally turned back and looked at him, he noted that she looked as, ah, ... icily determined… as he'd ever seen her look. And that was saying a lot.

"And before you do something, or say something really annoying, and start trying to convince me that reassignment would be for the 'good of the universe… country … whatever', let me be clear. I am not giving you up; I'm not giving us up. Not again; not ever. So this conversation is closed."

She got up off the bed, put on her robe, and opened the deck doors off of the bedroom, moving out into the clear, dry Colorado summer evening and looked up at the stars.

He followed her, grabbing his jeans from the floor next to the bed and put them on as he moved. When he reached the deck, he pulled her back against his chest, wrapped his arms around her, and lowered his head down into her hair, breathing in her fragrance. She didn't move away, but she didn't exactly respond, either.

An "icily determined" and what now appeared to be a "really pissed" Carter was a new experience; not because he hadn't seen that before because, of course, he had, many times, but this time the annoyance and irritation appeared to be directed at him, rather than at a piece of technology or a really bad, bad guy.

He took some comfort in the fact that she'd clearly gotten comfortable enough with him that she wasn't pulling any punches. Figuratively, thank god, they were just figurative punches. Carter had a pretty mean left.

He used his best "calming the horses" voice, and asked the question closest to his heart.

"Did you really think I would?"

" Would what?"

"Try to convince you to take the assignment? Because if I did that, under current conditions, we **would** have to give this up."

He continued. "Did you think I could? "

"I—of course not." Her ice and anger seemed to melt suddenly; and then dissipate, like a quick Colorado Chinook that left as suddenly as it arrived. He was relieved when she leaned back against him. But he couldn't let it go.

"The truth, Sam."

"I don't know. Yes; some days, maybe."

He really didn't like that answer. He waited to hear more.

It took a while, but more finally came. "God, I don't know, Jack. To be honest, I didn't want to ask the question. This is all so new. "

He stayed silent, waiting her out, wanting to hear the rest.

Her voice finally filled the quiet of the night. "It's not that easy. Nothing's ever easy with us. I thought maybe after the – well, anyway, for a while there I thought things might be calmer. But now –."

She stopped mid-sentence. "The point is that the crises are never going to stop; at least not in our lifetimes as far as I can see. And I didn't want you caught between duty and inclination again. I didn't want either one of us to be there again, but one of us had to be, so I made the call."

He shifted his weight and put his head next to hers, looking at the stars, thinking carefully about how to continue the discussion.

"What you did, in fact, was make a decision that affects us both without talking to me about it. That's a problem, Sam."

She shook her head. "Yeah, I guess. When you put it that way, I have to agree. I'm sorry, Jack, but I--"

He interrupted her before she could start into self-recriminations, swearing mentally. This was so not where he had intended to take this discussion or where he wanted it to go.

"C'mere." He pulled her over to the chairs on the deck, so she was facing him, and leaned towards her, keeping her hands in his.

She sighed. "Jack, this situation **is** affecting your Command. If we weren't together, you would be asking me to return."

"And you'd want to go."

She shrugged and looked away again. "I guess. There's a lot at stake. It's just that I'm so damned tired of it all."

"Sam, look at me. Please."

When she finally turned back to him, he continued. "I don't want to talk about Landry and his proposals. And I don't give a damn about the state of the universe right now. What this is about is trust; it's about making decisions together, not alone. Do you believe that I love you? Do you trust me?"

"I – yes."

"Then marry me, Carter."

"What?"

And then there was stunned silence.

Jack swore at himself, reviewing what he'd said. Yep, that had been a good move, even a great move. Make it a command order and use her last name in the bargain, why don't you? Oh yeah, that was classy.

He tried to retrieve the situation. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

"You didn't mean it?"

Oh great. Now she was even more confused.

He snorted, exasperated with himself. "Of course I meant it." He raised his hand up, as a sort of tentative time-out, compromise or defense; he wasn't sure which.

"Hold on here. I'm not very good at this."

He winced, and then tried again. "Sam, I don't want to keep this quiet any longer, and I don't want either of us to feel that they have to protect the other or to make decisions alone. I want you with me for the rest of our lives in a real partnership. I want you to know that you can trust me, no matter what, and that I can trust you.

"Will you marry me?"

OK, this was as stupidly and as embarrassingly sloppy as anyone could ever possibly get, but...it mattered. He needed to know and he wanted a future.

And then, it was all right.

She smiled a mega-watt Carter smile that lit up the night for him, and pulled her right hand away from his in order to touch his face. "I didn't know you were a closet romantic, General. I'm going to have to keep that in mind in our future discussions."

He rolled his eyes to the top of his head. " OK, I deserved that. I take it that's a yes, then?"

"Oh yeah, you betcha." And then she was in his arms again.

Much later, Jack looked up at the dwindling night stars, shifting Carter's head against his chest to a more comfortable position. They'd fallen asleep hours ago; the sun was starting to rise over the plains in the east. He looked west to the mountains, where the rose hue was reflected in the clouds. Sam shifted. "Cold?"

"Yeah."

He looked around the deck and snatched a blanket from the floor. "Better?"

"Yes." She opened her eyes, looking at the sunrise. "Beautiful."

He agreed, looking down at her. "Oh yeah."

He could feel her begin to wake, her mind start working again, as she came out of the depths of sleep. Something was bothering her; he could sense it. "What is it?'

"Nothing."

"Sam…"

She shrugged into his chest. "It's nothing. We just never finished the conversation last night on what happens next. So when I go back to 51, I suppose you'll let Landry--"

He interrupted. "Sam, stop. You're doing it again."

She lifted her head to look at him, honestly confused. "Doing what again?"

"Making assumptions about the future without consulting me."

"I am?"

He sighed. This new habit of hers was going to take a while to get … whatever. "Yes, you are. Yes, you do have to stay assigned to 51 for a while; we can't get married unless there's no direct chain of command. But after that…" He broke off and waited, wondering when she'd finally get the point.

It clicked. "But after that, spousal exception kicks in."

Finally. He'd never thought of Carter as dense before, but this …

"Yes. After that, if you want to, you can rejoin the SGC, or stay at 51. It's up to you. Either way won't damage your career or our connection. And it will all be above board, legal, and according to the regs."

She was nerve-wrenchingly silent for a moment, and then seem to come to some sort of conclusion. She stared at him curiously. "Just when did you come up with this marriage idea?"

He looked down at her, startled. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Give."

"Hell, I guess about seven years ago."

"Just seven?"

"I was in denial for a while."

She smiled, and put her head back down on his chest. "Good answer."

He ran his hand through her hair, thinking. "You didn't think that I came up with it so that I could have you and you back at the SGC, did you?"

The thought made him actually slightly outraged.

She shrugged, and said mildly, "You usually do find ways to have your cake and eat it too."

He sat up suddenly, practically knocking them both on the ground in the process, completely flustered. "I would never do that. Never."

He stopped explaining when he saw her expression and then let out his breath.

"Damn it, Carter. You're teasing me. Don't ever do it again. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

She smiled, and tried to pull him back down to a comfortable position for them both. "Sorry. It was hard to resist."

He resisted, still flustered; he couldn't help it. He pulled a box out of his jeans pocket, wanting to prove his innocence.

"Here." He handed it to her. "This has been burning a hole in my pocket since Daniel nailed Anubis. I've been trying to find the right time to give it to you, but things have been so busy that--."

He stopped suddenly when he saw that she was staring at him, her eyes wide and misty.

Damn. Now he felt like a jerk. Sam deserved more than his throwing a box at her while he was feeling stupidly defensive.

He was never, absolutely never, ever in his lifetime going to get the hang of this romance stuff.

"I wanted to do something … uhh… romantic and all that, but there hasn't been time. I'm sorry, Sam. I should have waited. I wanted this to be special."

She looked down at the box. "It is. I can't imagine anything more …special." She gave it back to him and he noticed that her hands shook slightly. "Open it for me, will you?"

He cleared his throat, feeling suddenly nervous himself as he opened it. He was right; he was never going to get the hang of this.

"Uhh… look, if you don't like it, that's fine. It was my grandmother's, and my mother's, so it's probably old fashioned." He mentioned quickly before she mistook him, "It was never Sara's."

He couldn't stop himself from rambling. "I had it sized to fit your finger a while back, but if you don't like it, or don't want a ring, we can do something else. I --"

She put her hand over his mouth. "Stop. It's beautiful. I love it."

Okay. That was all right then.

Then his hands started moving of their own accord. He watched as they took the ring out of the box and put it on her finger, his emotions rough and tumultuous, his thoughts rambling.

He'd loved two women in his life; he'd proposed to them both. And god help them, they'd both accepted him.

The Jack O'Neill that had proposed to Sara had been fresh out of the Academy and convinced that he could take on the world and make everything right for her, for everyone. That man had been an arrogant, optimistic fool. He'd learned a lot since then. Now, he was still arrogant, but tired and worn, and knew that happiness was fleeting and that he didn't matter much in the great cosmic scheme of things. And he knew that, given their work, the fact that both he and Sam were still alive was nothing short of miraculous and that the probability that they'd stay that way wasn't high.

But when he looked at the ring on her finger, and the smile in her eyes, he saw a promise, a commitment, and a statement that told the world and the great cosmic scheme to go to hell; they'd make their way together in the open and the light.

He swallowed as he ran his hand over hers and the ring and tried to lighten the mood. "It's not fair, you know."

She looked up at him, startled. "What's not fair?"

"Never understood why guys didn't get to have one of these too."

She snorted. "Will a wedding band do?"

He grinned. "Yeah, I think that will be fine."

"C'mon." She got up and started pulling him up off the chair.

"Where are we going?"

When she didn't answer and just kept pulling, he tried whining. "Carter, are you planning the future without consulting me again?"

She laughed and manueavered him into the bedroom. "Not a chance. Just relocating the negotiations."

"Ah. That's all right then." He pulled her back into his arms.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Resolution

Although Jack was delighted that they were going to bring their relationship out into the open and into the light of day, he didn't expect either one to start quite so quickly. Well, the light part he did. It was morning after all; and it was Colorado, where the sun shown 320 days a year and the skies were always a clear azure blue from the altitude. He'd woken up with Sam missing, and then smelled the coffee whose perking located her in the kitchen, and headed into the shower. Afterward, he'd thrown on his jeans and a tee, but couldn't find his shoes. Barefoot, and still drying his hair with a towel, he headed down the staircase to the main floor. That's when the open part had started.

"Sam, have you seen my sand-- uhhh."

He stopped cold, two steps down, staring at the front door where Daniel, Teal'c and Mitchell were all staring back at him, dumbfounded.

"Jack."

"O'Neill."

"Sir." Mitchell saluted.

Well, at least **that** he could do something about. "At ease, Colonel."

He looked apologetically at Sam. "Sorry. In the shower. Didn't hear the door."

She shrugged. "In the living room."

"What?"

"Your sandals are in the living room where you left them last night."

"Oh. Thanks."

He hadn't heard that kind of silence in a very long time.

Daniel finally recovered. "This had damn well better be what it looks like, or I'm throwing you both in the bedroom and locking the door until you finally get it figured out."

"Indeed."

Jack felt the need to defend himself. "Hey, I'm not that slow."

"Nine years is **quick**?"

OK, Daniel had a point. He'd forgotten how irritating Daniel could be when he had a point. He changed the subject. "What are you **doing** here? It's 9 am on a Sunday morning, for crying out loud."

Mitchell coughed but stepped up to the plate. He had to give the man credit. "That would be my fault, sir. Daniel and Teal'c weren't convinced, but I finally persuaded them to come with me to see if we could convince Sa--uhh-- the Colonel to change her mind about staying permanently with SG1. I can see now that that was presumptuous. With your permission, we'll head out now."

Jack put the towel down around his shoulders and rubbed his eyes. "Ah, jeez, Mitchell, I haven't even had coffee yet."

When he looked up again, Sam was grinning. He stared at her suspiciously. "You're enjoying this."

She shrugged her shoulders and volunteered a peace offering of sorts. "There's a full pot of coffee in the kitchen, and lots… lots and lots… of cups."

He sighed and gave in. "Whatever, Carter." When Daniel, Teal'c and Mitchell stayed where they were, still staring at him, he waved them away after her as she headed toward the kitchen.

"Go. I learned a long time ago not to argue with her when she's decided to make up my mind for me." He headed towards the living room where he hoped to recover his sandals, and maybe, just maybe, the last shreds of his dignity.

When he finally made his way to the kitchen, he found them all seated around the table, cups in hand. The silence that settled when he entered was impressive, even by his standards.

Daniel coughed. "So, Jack, how's D.C.?"

"Just swell." He sighed in relief as Sam handed him a coffee cup. He gulped down nearly half of the liquid, trying to wake up.

Daniel looked highly amused. "OK, enough small talk. So-- I'm curious. Just how long has this been going on?"

"Oh for crying out loud, Daniel, it's none of your--"

"Jack." Sam interrupted him. "You did plan on telling them some time, right?"

He realized that her tone sounded slightly hurt.

Hell. Of course she'd want to tell them first. They were the closest thing she had, they both had, to family.

He winced and apologized. "Sorry."

He turned to Daniel. "Sam and I decided to … explore our options just after you took out Anubis." There. That sounded sufficiently dignified.

Daniel grinned. "I see. So… **that's** why your move to D.C. and Sam's to 51. You could have told us, you know."

"I'm not done yet, Daniel."

Daniel ignored him. "Sorry. So, to summarize to this point, just so we're all clear here, you finally started sleeping together about six weeks ago, kept it quiet, but arranged it so you weren't breaking the regs and in the meantime confused all of your friends and colleagues, who consequently started questioning both of your sanities as well as their own. I think I have it so far. Go on."

He was gonna shoot Daniel one of these days, he really was.

Sam broke in. "Quit baiting him, Daniel. He'll be like a bear with a sore paw the rest of the day."

Jack stared at her, distracted from Daniel's damned presumption, which he realized was probably what she intended. He defended himself. "I **never** act like a bear with a sore paw."

Daniel broke in, diverted as well. "Oh yeah, sure. What about P3X787?"

"As well as P3X585." That from Teal'c.

Jack looked at Teal'c, annoyed. "You're not helping."

Teal'c raised his eyebrow, unrepentant. "There was also P3X975."

He surrendered, mostly because of Mitchell's amused grin, which he ultimately decided was bad for maintaining the command structure. There was just so much information he wanted let out. Besides, the conversation was getting embarrassing.

He changed tactics. "OK, so I growl occasionally. Sue me. To continue, it wasn't until last night that she agreed to marry me."

Hah. That shut them up. Well, to be accurate, it shut up Daniel and Teal'c. Mitchell looked slightly stunned again, then recovered almost immediately. Sam just smiled at him happily.

He decided the conversation was worth it.

"Congratulations, sir. Sam, I'm happy for you." Mitchell turned to Daniel and Teal'c, who were still gawking at Jack. As a slightly awkward silence settled, Mitchell tried to fill the gap. "Daniel, Teal'c, maybe we should… uhh… head back to base or something." Mitchell turned back to Jack. "I'm sure you have a lot to talk about, sir, and I'm very sorry we interrupted your morning."

Jack looked at him and realized Mitchell was partially right. Personally, he'd give his proverbial right arm to just spend today alone with Sam and bask in the glow of what was, is, and could be. But when he looked at Sam and saw her smile dim when there was still no response from Daniel or Teal'c, he knew that wasn't an option.

"It's alright, Mitchell. They'll recover soon enough. And anyway, I want to gloat. I haven't one-upped Daniel in ... oh… six weeks or so. And Teal'c, well, I don't think I've ever seen him quite so… uhh… Teal'c-like. It's kinda nice to know I can still have an effect."

That broke the dam. The somewhat wild and erratic conversation that followed led from congratulations, to questions about weddings, to, eventually, work and the SGC.

He sat back, and then pulled back quietly, watching Sam talk with Daniel, Teal'c and Mitchell, assessing the interaction between the four of them as they gave him update after update of what he'd missed.

And decided it was right. And it would be all right. As much as he secretly might want her safely playing with doohickeys at Area 51, she was needed on the front, and she wasn't ready to pull back from the main action yet. She'd miss it, even though she'd never tell him that. And he couldn't let that happen.

And, on another note, god only knew what might really might happen if she wasn't there on the front to pull all of their collective asses out of the fire, given the current situation with the Ori. She was Carter, after all.

Yep, and being Carter, if she did stay away, and then could have solved something that went bad, or even thought she could and hadn't been there, she'd regret it for the rest of her life. And he didn't want that, no matter how dangerous the situation might get, or how crazy every chance she took had made him in the past and was sure to make him in the future. He wanted no regrets for either of them. Not any. Not ever.

He looked consideringly at Mitchell, who was really the unknown in the equation. The man spent too much time actually acknowledging that he was listening to Daniel's diatribes, derivations and explanations for his taste, and he actually seemed to **want** to understand what Carter was saying. Unbelievable.

He smiled at that. The problem for him had always been that Carter did get through to him eventually on a scientific level. She was a great teacher; and, whether he admitted it or not, he did have the background to understand her. He'd never admitted it and never would; although he suspected she knew.

He shook his head and got back to the point. Mitchell was actually asking her to explain something in detail. He was in for trouble; as Jack knew from experience, just a little encouragement went a long way. But that was Mitchell's problem, not his.

The fact of the matter was, that whatever differences from his experiences, the four of them did seem to be gelling into some sort of team that just might make an impact. And the SGC needed that; hell, Earth needed that.

He sighed, annoyed. And once again, it was probably true that the galaxy needed that. And as the Air Force General in charge of Homeworld Security, he sure as hell needed them all.

He watched with some interest as Mitchell noticed his silence, unused to his moods like the rest of them. Mitchell tried to pull some semblance of order back into to the conversation, to subdue Daniel and Sam, as much as that was humanly possible, and to include Teal'c as they talked.

"General, what's your opinion?" Mitchell looked at him questioningly, trying to draw him, admittedly unknowingly, unwillingly back into the conversation at hand.

"On what?" He decided not to make it easy.

Mitchell was taken aback. "Uhh.. I just... I'm sorry, sir. That was out of line."

Daniel broke in. "Damn it, Jack, have you heard a word we've said in the last ten minutes about the situation out there?"

"Nope. Not really. Sorry."

Well, hell, it was **sort** of honest, and it did shut them up.

He gave them a bone. "But I did notice that Mitchell puts up with a lot more scientific, archaeological, and political drivel than I ever could. And he could use some training in 'bear'. "

He smiled as he watched them each react in their own unique ways to that sort of challenge.

And then he heard the doorbell ring. Perfect timing.

"You know, Sam, I think I'll get that. I'm getting used to the place."

And with that, he got up and left the room.

As he predicted, Hank Landry was standing on the doorstep.

"Jack." Landry's voice was stunned.

Jack decided that "stunned" was a reaction that he was getting used to, and to be perfectly honest, the whole business was getting a little dull.

"Yeah, that'd be me. Good to see you again, Hank."

Landry stopped short and then took a deep breath. "I should have figured it out. I'm sorry, Jack."

"Why, for crying out loud? And, jeez, will you come in? The neighbors are going to start to wonder."

"I—yes, thank you." Landry entered the house, still stunned.

Okay, Jack had to admit that, on second thought, maybe it wasn't all that dull, in fact maybe it was kinda fun, in a weird sort of way, of course, to "stun" your lover, colleagues and subordinates to the point where they were unable to function.

Okay, so yeah. He was not necessarily the solidest block in the construction, but he did have his moments.

"I should have known you were the reason she refused the reassignment."

"Really? Because if that's true, you knew more than I did, Hank."

"Are you serious?"

Jack smiled. "Yep. But it's all fine now. And I do appreciate your cluing me into ... uhh, things. It did help a lot."

"Jack?"

He smiled. "You know, I think we should rejoin the gang." He gestured toward the kitchen, amused at the idea of playing host. It was a role he intended to get used to.

"There's a gang?" Hank still hadn't recovered. Jack was getting more and more amused. He'd been through too many situations in the past with Landry for him not to remember Hank's seemingly unflappable persona, no matter what was happening.

"There's coffee, " he said encouragingly.

When Hank looked at him like he'd lost his mind, he grinned.

"Yep, just coffee right now. I'm sorry that there's no cake, precisely, ready for general consumption. We're working on it. But on the other hand, there are lots and lots of personal, local, national, and galactic news updates. "

He grinned again. "Coffee, Sunday morning, good friends and the news; the classic American activity, with all of its general confusion and possibilities. Doesn't get much better than that."

Hank smiled. "No, it doesn't. "

"Then let me show you the way."

End.

Copyright © 2005 sam938


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